


Ginger and Honeycomb

by Kumikoseph



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom
Genre: Cookies, Demon Deals, Demon!Dan, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Reader-Insert, Stress Relief, Stressed Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumikoseph/pseuds/Kumikoseph
Summary: You just wanted to relax and enjoy some delicious homemade cookies when you got home from work, was that too much to ask?
Regardless, things didn't go quite as planned.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SomethingthatsaysBubbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingthatsaysBubbles/gifts).



You drop your handbag as you drag yourself through the front door of your home, quickly followed by your coat and your bag of groceries. You kick off your shoes and stumble into your living room, blinking your weary eyes as you collapse on your couch, face pressed into the cushion; you let out a long, loud groan of dismay.

Work was a drag; your eight-hour shift felt like it lasted for eleven years, and it didn’t help that your co-worker was being an absolute jerk. You deserve a raise, you deserve a promotion, you deserve a medal for putting up with your co-worker’s shameless bullshit, but most of all…

Most of all, you deserve a batch of soft, chewy butterscotch chocolate chip cookies, just like mama used to make.

And God damn it, you are going to make the tastiest batch of butterscotch chocolate chip cookies this world has ever seen.

“Time to make mama proud!” you shout enthusiastically into the cushion.

Gathering up the ingredients you purchased on your way home from work, you make your way sluggishly into the kitchen, sliding the dial to pre-heat the oven. You grab your beloved cookbook and flip it open to your favourite page, not that you really need it - you certainly know the recipe and baking steps off the top of your head, but it feels good to have it there in front of you with the image of the end result, reminding you that soon enough you’ll be able to sink your teeth into the most luscious, mouth-watering cookies in the history of the world.

After you place the baking tray in the oven, you slide over to the couch and put your feet up while you watch TV.

Roughly twelve minutes later, the oven dings, indicating that your cookies are done. You take them out of the oven and set them on the side, quite literally drooling at the smell.

“Fuck, these are gonna be so good…”

They’re going to take half an hour to cool, and in that time you figure you should take a bath because your shift, after all, left you sweaty and smelly.

Leaving the cookies on a cool plate on the counter, you make your way down the hall and into the bathroom. You let yourself soak in the warm water and relax for as long as it takes the pain in your muscles to dull.

You’re lightly dozing when you’re startled awake by a rattling sound from somewhere else in your apartment; you freeze still, straining your ears to hear any other noise, but you can’t pick up on anything else. You wrack your brain for any reason that something might have fallen, but you’re sure you didn’t leave the window open.

What could that possibly have been?

It’s about time to get out of the tub anyway; your fingers and toes have pruned up and the water is beginning to cool.

You very quietly climb out of the tub, pulling the plug as you continue to listen for any unusual sounds, but the vast expanse of silence convinces you that you’d imagined it.

You forgot to get some fresh clothes to change into, so you pull your bathrobe on and tie it up, giving your hair a quick ruffle with the towel, you step out into the hallway and head back through to the kitchen. You lick your lips in anticipation for the taste of your cookies, but stop short at the sight of the cookie-less plate on your kitchen countertop.

Where are the cookies?

Where the FUCK are the cookies?

What the FUCK!?

Your eyes flicker around, finding a plastic cup on the floor - that must’ve been what caused the rattling noise earlier, but what knocked it off the side?

“What?” you murmur, beyond confused and a little worried.

You spot movement in your peripheral vision and look over into the living room… where you spot a strange bushy-haired man making himself at home on your couch, reclined slightly and looking right at you.

“Oh, hey-”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!?” you scream, reaching behind you over the countertop for something to protect yourself with. The man flinches from your initial scream, but quickly jumps up and starts moving towards you.

But as he steps into the light of the kitchen you notice that his mop of brown curls is nesting two devilish horns spiralling from either side of his head.

“Whoa, whoa, I’m sorry, my name is-”

You quickly cut him off by delivering the metallic surface of a frying pan to the side of his face with all the strength you can muster. You inhale shakily as you back away from him, clutching the frying pan in your hand; the improvised weapon was pretty ineffective in incapacitating the intruder.

He stands there, rubbing his cheek gingerly, bottom lip quivering.

“That wasn’t very nice…”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” you scream, raising the pan threateningly as a warning.

But this time when you bring it down, he grabs it and firmly snatches it from your grasp, leaving you defenceless and feeling quite pathetic. Now it’s your bottom lip that’s quivering.

Your brave resolve fails you and you crumble into tears, “please don’t hurt me! I didn’t mean to hit you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me!”

The horned man watches you with a growing expression of worry, and he shakes his head as tears trail down your face.

“I’m not- I was never going to hurt you. Please don’t cry”, he tells you, placing the frying pan down on the side and raising his hands to show he doesn’t mean you any harm.

You rub your wet eyes, wiping the tears away and trying to get a hold of yourself; you sniffle and looks up at his horns, and then back down to his face.

“W-what are you? Why are you here? How did you get in?” you mumble a series of questions quickly and the man blinks and tries to smile non-threateningly.

“My name is Dan; I’m a demon, I’m here because I could smell the cookies and, well, magic.” he answers in succession.

You sniffle again and swallow hard, eyeing him heavily.

“You… you took my cookies?”

Dan falters, surprised that that’s what you decided to focus on; he looks uncomfortable all of a sudden and shifts on his feet, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Uhm… well, they were just… really nice-smelling and I- I only planned on having a few but they were just so good, and I _love_ cookies, like for real, and so I just couldn’t stop myself because they were irresistible- but uhm, if you want, I can offer something in return?”

You’re so torn up that you didn’t get to taste the cookies you were so excited to devour that you almost didn’t hear the last thing he said.

“Offer me something? What do you mean?”

Dan gives you a charming smile, “Well, uh, you see, usually we demons deal in souls, but since I kind of ate all your cookies without asking first, I’ll give you one favour in return without taking your soul!” He pauses to see if you have anything to say, but you remain silent and tearful, and he sighs.

“Here- come sit down”, he says, guiding you out of the kitchen- grabbing a tissue on the way. He sets you down on the couch and hands you the tissue to dry your eyes, then he kneels down in front of you, hands resting on his knees.

“I’ll do you one favour- within reason of course, I’m not going to kill anyone for you, that would certainly require a soul in return, but uhm- is there anything you want?” He asks gently, hopeful that you’ll stop crying.

“I want my butterscotch chocolate chip cookies”, you squeak, and fresh tears spring to your eyes. Dan waves his hands around for a moment, panic rising in his face as you threaten to start sobbing.

“I- I’m sorry! I can’t give you your cookies back, I’m sorry! Is there anything else? Please tell me there’s something else I can give you! Something you need? I can’t get you cookies but there are… _other things_ I can give you”, there’s a suggestive lilt to his voice and he raises his eyebrows, but in your distress you didn’t acknowledge it.

You press the tissue against your eyes, clearing the tears as you sniffle, and then you look down at him miserably.

“I… I need…” your face creases as you hold back tears, and then you whimper quietly, “I need a hug…”

“What? What do you need?” Dan asks gently, not having heard you through your tearful mumbling.

“I need a hug!” you snap, covering your face with your hands and letting out a whine.

Dan looks taken aback. “Oh…” he murmurs, surprised and a little awkward.

This was a new one. Dan had done many things in his dealings. He took the lives of his client’s enemies, he made people lust after a client, he’d even been summoned for sex himself - that last one was something he enjoyed a lot, and was heavily hinting at it to you, but you just didn’t seem to get it.

But never in all his days had he been asked for a hug.

“A hug, huh?” he murmurs, and you nod, face still buried in your hands.

“Okay… here goes…”

He’d done some pretty dirty stuff with clients, but nothing that compared to how much he had to psyche himself up for the hug he was about to give you.

He moves to sit on the couch at your side and then stiffly wraps his arms around you.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s not used to giving hugs; as you lean against him he shifts uncertainly, unsure of where to rest his hands. The position is terribly uncoordinated, and you pull back for a moment to shimmy into his lap, and then you rest your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around him. 

That’s better.

His embraced tightens a little to match your’s, and you sigh, relaxing into the cuddle. If you didn’t have your face buried in his shoulder, you might have seen his cheeks tinge red. He blinks down at you, and steps up his hugging game by rubbing your back a little. It brought a small smile to your face and you inhaled his scent - he smelt strongly of ginger and honeycomb and it was _delightful_.

You stay clinging to each other for a while - he must have been waiting for you to pull back first; perhaps he didn’t know how long an average hug was supposed to last. You were really milking this hug for all it was worth, clocking in a solid 11 minutes and 32 seconds of snuggle-time.

Finally, when you felt content and happy again, you pulled back and glanced up at him. He looked a little startled as you pulled away, and then smiled brightly when he spotted your upturned lips.

“Was that okay?” he asks softly, and you nod.

“Thank you. I needed that… a lot. Probably more than I needed the cookies if I’m honest.” you admitted with a quiet chuckle.

He smiles sadly, still guilty about devouring the entire batch.“Hey, uhm… If you… If you ever feel like you need a hug again then just make another batch of those delicious cookies and I’ll be here in a heartbeat.” He grins, “and next time, I promise I won’t eat _all_ of them!”

You blink in surprise, “really? You’ll come and give me a cuddle session whenever I bake you cookies?”

“It’s the least I could do… it was actually surprisingly nice. I quite enjoyed it.” 

“I enjoyed it too, a lot, and… I would like that. Thank you Dan, you’re a really good hugger.”

Dan beams with pride, and you feel like his smile brightens your entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the demon!Dan fics in this fandom, and I thought it was funny how they all end with hardcore sexy stuff, so I thought I'd go for something a little different ;) 
> 
> This little story is dedicated to my wonderful girlfriend <3


End file.
